


Smoke and Mirrors Disappear

by ZarryFTZouis



Series: Chrissy's Oneshots [72]
Category: One Direction (Band), Union J (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Epilogue, M/M, Mental Institutions, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 12:16:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4391522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZarryFTZouis/pseuds/ZarryFTZouis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lover Dearest sequel</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smoke and Mirrors Disappear

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Adam Lambert's "There I Said It".
> 
> Been thinking about this for a while so yeah.

_Falling, falling, falling, this is a lot more than I expected_ …

“I love you, Zayn,” Harry mumbles, bracing for the ocean’s impact against his body from his jump.

_Splash, sinking, not going to breathe…_

 

-

 

“Raising the voltage to 300!” The medic yells as he shocks the unbreathing boy’s chest yet again. “Pulse still weak, but barely there. Blood pressure?”

“90/46, sir!”

“Clear!”

_Zap!_

 

-

 

“You can’t do this,” the voice Harry’s been missing for last couple weeks creeps up on him. “I’m dead, but you have to live and live for _both of us_.”

“If I’m dead, I’ll be with you,” Harry insists, clutching onto Zayn’s shoulders, few stray tears running down his cheeks. “I want to be yours for rest of our death.”

“They are almost succeeding in resuscitating you,” Zayn brushes his lips against his former lover’s. “Be the man you wanted to be.”

 

-

 

 _Four months later,_ London Asylum

“Harry,” the tenor voice Harry got used to wakes him up. “Harry, get your arse up and take your morning meds!”

“No,” Harry groans, his wrists shackled to the ground to prevent him from self-harming. “I don’t want to, George.”

“I’ll make you,” the older, frustrated nurse barges into Harry’s solitary room. “For fuck’s sake, you’ve been here for longer than anyone else!”

“I don’t want to,” _let the meds take my memories of Zayn_. “So leave the fuck alone.”

 

George nips at his lower lip.

“I get paid to babysit your ass 24/7 so I’ll just shove them down your throat,” George threatens; Harry notices how he’s still in his monkey onesie PJ’s.

“You’re so mean,” Harry mutters before drinking his pills. One for his depression, other for his mood swings.

 

-

 

“You gotta stop this,” Zayn’s voice is ever-familiar to Harry. “You promised me not to do drugs.”

“Well,” Harry giggles, knowing this is all a big hallucination. “This is the only way of seeing you!”

“Why can’t you let me go?”

“‘Cause I love you.”

“You _loved_ me,” Zayn corrects him. “I’m dead, and will be for rest of your life.”

 

-

 

“Not again,” Harry hears his generous nurse’s voice. “Styles, do you want me to tell your psychiatrist that you OD’d again?”

“Shut it, Shelley,” Harry plucks the IV off of his wrist. “I’m okay.”

“Stop overdosing on mixture of hallucinogens just to see Zayn,” George pleads, his warm brown eyes wavering. “Please.”

“You know I can’t just—”

 

George’s kiss is too sudden, too real to notice this is very _wrong_. His lips are softer than Harry thought they looked, gentle about how to kiss him all proper. Harry lets his nurse kiss him to calm him down, a piteous idea.

 

“You idiot,” George is crying, Harry realises, “of a selfish human being! You have no idea why I stuck around you, now did you?”

“You can’t like me,” Harry shakes his head. “You aren’t allowed to have an iota of feelings for me.”

“Well, I do now,” George sniffles. “Here’s your abilify, hope you don’t turn towards drugs again!”

 

Harry feels more confused than angry and remorseful when he sees George’s shaky shoulders getting away from his embrace.

 

-

 

Harry didn’t need his zopiclone to fall asleep that night.

 

-

 

When George comes to his room in the morning, Harry doesn’t say anything. _It’s painfully awkward to talk to your nurse after his kisses you out of the fucking blue_ , Harry tells himself. _Better to keep the hope down to the minimum than go crazy._

“… hi…” George hands him his morning meds. “How’d you sleep?”

“Like a fucking babe,” Harry grins lopsidedly.

“Language,” George mumbles without much heat. “The security guard will unlock you in five.”

“Why did you kiss me?”

“You looked like you needed someone,” George replies evasively. “Take your meds, yeah?”

“Not until you tell me why you _really_ kissed me,” Harry shakes his head. “Don’t fuck with my heart.”

“You should stop thinking about _him_ when I’m here for you,” George hisses out. “I’ve been here for you from the start.”

“You were unluckily assigned to me,” Harry laughs maniacally. “Now if you’d please, I’d like to mourn in peace.”

 

-

 

Three days.

That’s how long he’s gone without the mixture of heroin and speed to see Zayn in his high as fuck stupor.

 

 _I’ve lost you_ , Harry comments silently. _Oh I’m in love with you, but if I can’t have you, I guess I’ll have_ him.

 

-

 

“You look clean,” George inspects Harry’s arms with a keen interest. “What changed?”

“Nothing,” Harry giggles—wait, did he actually giggle? He hasn’t giggled since Zayn passed away.

“You’re laughing,” his nurse comments.

“So?”

 

George hugs him suddenly. Harry wasn’t prepared for the kiss so never mind a hug, which seemed more intimate to him.

 

“Why?” Harry wraps his arms around George’s slight frame. “Why do you care?”

“Because I have a silly little crush on you, you idiot,” George mumbles, brushing his lips atop Harry’s curls. “And you’re still hung up on Zayn.”

“In love,” Harry’s quick to correct his nurse. “But I did… I think… fall in love with another.”

 

George blinks.

 

“I think I love you,” Harry gushes out. “I just didn’t realise that earlier.”

“You piece of sod,” George growls, looking intimidating for once. “You made me chase clouds for four months and now you say you love me?”

“Maybe?”

 

George surprised him yet again, this time with a bitch-slap.

“That hurt,” Harry rubs at the reddening spot. “But I kind of deserved that.”

“I’m leaving,” George states coldly, then does as he warned the younger lad.

 

Confusion and grief grips Harry’s heart hard and heavily.

 

-

 

“Where’s George?” Harry asks the head nurse when she hands him his meds. “Haven’t seen him all day.”

“He got transferred to Bristol,” she replies, inspecting for any injection sites.

 _Why_.

 

-

 

_Three weeks later_

“Your family welcomes you back,” Gemma says with a fake smile. “Now, have you got all your meds?”

“Yeah, they’re in the rucksack,” Harry rolls his eyes.

 

It’s been three weeks since the last time he saw his angel of a nurse and he misses him dearly. It’s not real love he felt for the older, just yearning since someone took a liking to him.

 

-

 

Four months flew by and Harry re-applied for Cambridge University. He had the scholarship and everything but he just sort of… gave up.

 

“Same old shit, different day,” he mutters as he steps into the campus’ inner walls. He was supposed to come here with Zayn, after their pre-requisite studies were over, but now that can’t happen.

 

 _This misery is as weightless as a stone_ , Harry remarks. _Does he know the pain I know?_

 

“Harry?”

 

 _No fucking way_.

 

“I thought you were in Bristol,” Harry grits at his former nurse. “What are you doing here?”

“Third year student for Public Health,” George crosses his arms. “I’m allowed to go to a uni and work as a nurse at the same time.”

“Oh…”

“About the—actually, you don’t even care,” George snaps at him. “Why are _you_ here?”

“I got discharged and re-applied here,” Harry relies the same words he’s been repeating inside his head. “But I’m not here to make love.”

“I still love you,” George leans in to peck at Harry’s lips before scurrying away.

 

Harry’s feels skeletons of butterflies fluttering inside his chest as he walks to his Physics class.

 

-

 

Harry curses out loud when he sees the familiar curls at his Biology class.

“Wow, good to know I repulse you,” George comments snidely, petting at the spot next to him. “I won’t bite… yet.”

“Why are you in first year bio?”

“I’ve been taking other courses first,” George rolls his eyes this time. “C’mon, just take a seat beside me.”

 

Harry scowls at George before doing as he’s told.

 

“I only bite in bed,” George comments with a smile Harry isn’t used to—a seductive one he hasn’t received ever since Zayn died.

 

-

 

Harry hasn’t relapsed into drugs for a month now, nor has he thought about Zayn. It’s a weird euphoria, having George inside his head instead of Zayn.

_Is this how moving on feels like?_

Shaking his head, he brushes his hair and gets ready for his early morning Thursday lecture.

Thursdays are his favourites since he gets to see George.

 

“Morning,” George giggles as he pecks Harry’s cheek, a gesture Harry got used to in the last five months.

“Morning, babe,” Harry can’t help but smile like a maniac. (Which he is, whenever his high-end of bipolar hits him hard.)

“The prof’s cancelled his class due to personal complications,” George’s words are sexual purrs. “Wanna come to my place?”

 

-

 

George slams Harry’s back against the door frame as they kiss hungrily. It’s been a while since the last time he had sex but with Harry, it seems to be different. The way the younger lad kisses him back is enthusiastic, like he’s more than willing to fuck him on the counter or something.

He kisses and kisses Harry until he can’t taste anything but the sour, blunt smoke from Harry’s tongue, and smell nothing but Harry’s—his unofficial boyfriend’s—cologne.

 

“God, you taste so good,” he states, nuzzling his nose against the crook of Harry’s neck. “Gonna blow you before I fuck you.”

“Please,” Harry mewls, a cute sound to George’s ears.

 

George does a quick job of ridding himself of Harry’s tight clothes, then stares at the naked beauty standing before him. Harry has a bit of tattoos covering his chest, hipbones, and stomach. It’s a weird art he’s drawn on himself, so different from the tattoos George has himself.

(He used his money from nursing to afford for his wolf and feather tattoos.)

 

“So pretty,” George comments as a shy Harry looks up at him. “I think I’m gonna rim you first, that okay?”

“Okay…” Harry looks at him with the mixture of love and adoration.

 

_Love…_

One of his friends from nursing programme laughed at him when he told him about his feelings for Harry. Said that it’s fucked up, of course.

“I want to love you until the end of time,” George whispers as he presses tender kiss from Harry’s swallow tattoos down to his butterfly one on his stomach. “You’re so damn beautiful.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Harry hisses out.

“Okay.”

 

George hadn’t the sweet time to fuck anyone in ages so he skips the foreplay and sweet talks. He reaches for the lube in the bedside table and starts prepping Harry. Harry keens when he locates his prostate, back arching off the mattress. Grinning, George keeps a steady tempo of finger-fucking Harry in the same angle.

“Please fuck me,” Harry mewls.

“I don’t want to fuck you, I want to make love to you,” George replies almost instantaneously as he grabs a condom. “I love you, Harry Edward Styles.”

“And I love _you_ , George Paul Shelley.”

 

Those words surprise George.

_Is he finally over the shadows Zayn left?_

“Forever,” George whispers as he pushes in after putting the condom on. Harry groans from the contact, a sound that only turns him on more.

 

Harry’s tight—probably from not having sex for a while—which only acts as a plus for George. He feels like his dick’s going to explode from the tightness he’s fucking into—no, _making_ love into. Harry is his sublime pleasure and he knows that.

“Harder,” Harry whines, already sounding thoroughly fucked. “Please…”

George isn’t the type to tease so he does as obliged. He really starts to drive into Harry’s prostate until they’re both spent and sweaty.

 

-

_Two years later_

“George Paul Shelley,” Harry giggles as he pulls out a monkey-shaped box out of his pocket and gets down on one knee. “Will you marry me?”

“Do you have to ask?”

Harry gets a kiss in reply in the middle of the Atlantic ocean headed to France.


End file.
